


I'm Tired

by Romano_the_great



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Blood and Injury, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Angst, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Needs a Hug, How Do I Tag, Insecure Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Insomnia, Overworking, Sad Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, i dont know how to spell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:47:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27976842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romano_the_great/pseuds/Romano_the_great
Summary: (please read the tags before reading this! if your easily triggered don't read!) (if you read the tags can you skip the summary)(I'm bad at summaries)Roman was tired, he needed to work. What was worse was that he had this infernal bruised ego thing to deal with. He probably was never gonna get to sleep.(basically its 2 am and roman has a bruised ego, just ignore the bad summary and read please!)
Relationships: None
Comments: 12
Kudos: 55





	I'm Tired

**Author's Note:**

> i was tired when i wrote this, so i apologize in advance for any mistakes. please read the tags before reading. also if you notice any mistakes please point them out so i can fix them! my friend helped me edit this so it might make a bit of sense. the tags kept deleting themself while i was tagging so if i missed any please tell me.

“I’m tired!” 

“keep working!” 

As the voices debated endlessly in the young prince’s head. He scribbled down whatever ideas he could make out amongst the constant shouting in his mind. 

Most of the ideas made no sense, half thought three am shorts that could not be taken anywhere. Somewhere in is mind a voice told him that he should care that he needs to edit and revise these so that they are a semi solid idea Logan can edit. But he could not get himself to care. Even his best most thought out ideas were thrown out. The other day he had given Logan a completed idea with an easy attached about why he liked this idea, and they should use it. At the end, logan said it was a nice rough draft. 

He had been trying to come up with ideas for ages, at first, he tried to make ones that would make even Virgil excited for. Soon he was scraping the bucket and writing down whatever popped into his sleep idled brain. He had been working all day and it was getting late into the night. Or could it be considered morning right now? It did not really matter right now. All he knew was that the glowing red letters in the alarm clock on his nightstand read 2:00 am and he could see the beginnings of the sun rising out his window. 

He yawned; he didn’t get any sleep the night before either. The voices had echoed in his head saying, “just one more idea and Patton will respect you, just one more idea and Logan will be proud of you, just one more idea and Virgil will love you.” Or to have them say “that idea is bull, pull yourself together! I thought you were creativity!” then the infernal replays of “well maybe Logan should lower his expectations, I don’t see him coming up with the ideas,” which made him feel like a shitty person. Then the whole ‘I thought I was your hero’ situation rose again in his mind. 

He could not remember when he enjoyed working. When his life could be considered his life. Back when he was playfully bantering with Virgil. He was still confused on that part. First Thomas said he wanted to get rid of Virgil then Roman was blamed for not being accepting enough. When he was not constantly changing his opinion to match Patton’s constant changing view on good and evil. When he could defend himself to Logan without seeming like a jerk. “el principe es estupido!” Logan took away the one thing he was proud of. He knew Spanish and the others did not. He knows he must sound like a bratty kid. But shit that hurt. His own talent turned into something to mock him. He knew he was being overdramatic. But he was not even aloud to defend himself. One look from Thomas told him everything. 

Maybe logan was right, the Prince was stupid. He never knew who to fallow. Being the ego meant that he was shaped by other views. He messed up with Virgil, so maybe he thought that if he’d be open with Deceit from the start, he wouldn’t mess up again. Deceit flirted with him and complemented him, then Roman found out that he wasn’t the good guy. Then deceit was the good guy again, like sharing his name made all the manipulation towards Roman disappear. Not to mention he wasn’t able to come up with satisfactory work in three days! 

He gasped suddenly, his arm exploding with pain. He noticed blood staining the inside of his elbow. He rolled up his sleeves and watched as blood trickled lazily into his elbow crease. 

Sighing he got up and crossed the room towards his little alarm clock atop his nightstand. He opened the drawer and pulled out a tissue. He dabbed the cut softly and watched as the blood seeped into the tissue staining it red. He added more pressure, eventually the bleeding stopped. 

He walked back towards his desk, halfway through he tripped over a large pile of papers. 

“SHIT!” he exclaimed as he hit the floor with a thud. 

Getting up he dusted himself off the listen to see if he’d woke anyone up. Virgil’s terrible emo music still played softly in the background. He could hear the soft snoring from Patton’s room next-door. Logan's room was the farthest away making it impossible to hear anything with the emo nightmare’s music playing. 

Bruised egos were common. Whenever Thomas got a particularly bad hate comment on his video and it stuck with him, a bruise appeared. He had been dealing with bruised egos since he’d been first had been living in the mind palace. The only other side that knew about his unfortunate situation was Remus. The Patton decided Remus was a dark side and they didn’t speak again for years. 

That was the part he hated the most. Patton literally tore him apart, there was now two creativities. and was the “good twin” and the other evil. They were supposed to be opposites, enemies forever. But he couldn’t get himself to hate Remus. They used to both same person, how could he hate another part of himself. He couldn’t even be mad at Patton for that. What does the good twin even mean! Thomas clearly thought he was weak, and he wasn’t Thomas’s hero… 

He inhaled sharply. Glancing down he found blood spreading slowly through his shirt. It was probably best he didn’t go down that path tonight. He lifted his shirt up slightly. Blood was pouring out of a two-inch scratch in his abdomen. He ran to his bed then knelt to look under. 

“oh, fuck I’m such an idiot!” 

The box which normally held gauze and rubbing alcohol was empty. He cursed quietly. He forgot to restock his first aid kit. Now he would have to find the one in the bathroom. The bathroom was past all the light sides rooms (including Virgil) past the kitchen and through the living room. He groaned. Looking down once more at the wound. There was even more blood than before, it was dripping down and staining his white pajama pants. He had just washed theses too. 

He straightens up (ha more like gayed up) and pushed himself off the floor. Yawning he waddled over towards the door trying (and failing) to not get blood on anything. He would have to clean it up later. 

He opened the door and peered into the hall. There was a night light by Virgil’s room so he could just barely see without a flashlight. He could see no one the cost was clear. (that makes you sound like a spy! I know that is why I said it!) he trekked forward. 

Walking down the dimly lit corridor he paused at Virgil’s room. He turned and raised his fist slowly nearing the wood. Maybe Virgil could help him! He had seen Virgil tend wounds after Patton’s many failed first attempts at baking. Exploding pies is a wonderful way to cause burn marks. But then again, Virgil was the embodiment of anxiety. It would be best not to worry him over silly things that Roman could fix himself. After all he was supposed to be a prince. 

he lowered his fist and turned on his heel to leave. He staggered forward, the soft light making him see monsters in the shadows. It was silly of course! A prince, er a fully grown man, walking around afraid of monsters! That is absurd! Then again, he was creativity, his whole thing was imagination! 

He stumbled along, past the nightlight and towards Patton’s room. 

He stopped once more staring at the door. Suddenly he doubled over, face contorting in pain. Patton’s room amplified feeling, forcing him to sit down. He loved his happy pappy Patton the father figure figment as much as the next side, but Patton really needed to not amplify his groaning in pain when he was trying to be sneaky. 

He slid down the wall. What did I do to deserve this! He whispered to himself. Figuring the pain would decrease if he started his voyage again, he forced himself up. Placing his hand on the wall he leaned against it leading himself towards Logan's room 

Hearing a noise, he pressed himself to the wall. 

“hello? Anyone here?” he watched a sleepy Patton look around rubbing his eyes, the Patton mumbled to himself. “must have been Virgil’s music…” 

Patton turned and drifted back into his chamber leaving the prince alone again. Roman sighed and peeled himself off the wall. That was close, he did not want Patton to be worried about silly problems from a silly prince. 

He tiptoed down the hall counting the seconds from when Patton left him. He laughed bitterly to no one. It was comical, he was supposed to be a hero, but he couldn’t even get to the bathroom without doubling over in pain. His ribs started to hurt from laughing. He put his hand on his mouth to cover the giggling. He couldn’t remember why he was laughing anymore. He stumbled forward laughing hysterically. 

Reaching Logan's room, he managed to stop laughing. He gently put his ear on the door. Virgil’s music could be barely heard. He could hear nothing from Logan's room. There was no snoring or paper shuffling to indicate the room was even occupied. Hopefully, that didn’t mean logan was in the kitchen. 

Roman glided to the end of the hallway peeking his head around the corner towards the kitchen. Logan’s head had fallen into a large stack of papers and snoring loudly. A blanket had been draped across the logical side’s shoulders. A small sticky note was stuck on his forehead. As roman got closer to the sleeping form he saw the note read; hey teach perhaps u should slep more, yours truly disgusting remlice. 

Roman rolled his eyes. He crept into the living room. Surprisingly, he found Deceit- no Janus and his brother curled up on the couch cuddling. Remus was snoring obnoxiously loud and every now and then he heard Janus blep after inhaling quietly. He tapped his pockets looking for his phone. He pulled out the device and snapped a picture. (in was only once in a great while he could find something that could truly embarrass his brother, and he was not passing up the chance despite having a gaping hole in his stomach.) he snickered saving it in his blackmail album. 

After having his fun, he waddled over to the bathroom. He closed the door and slumped onto the ground. He could start to see the blood through the robe. The prince opened the cabinet and pulled out a dusty first aid kit. he opened his robe and grabbed the gauze. He picked up the medical tape and pulled off two pieces and stuck it onto the bottom of his chin for safekeeping. He lifted the isopropyl alcohol out of the kit and reached for a clean washcloth. The bin of washcloths was a little higher then where his hand could reach. Being a combination of lazy and in pain he refused to get up, instead he gave up and poured the substance on his wound. He flung his hand to his mouth almost yelling in the sudden bubbling pain that had erupted from his wound. He slammed the cap back on the bottle with shaky hands and placed it back in the cabinet. Once the bubbling had stopped, he started wrapping the wound with gauze. Tears peaked from the conners of his eyes. The wound stung and he almost whimpered. 

How pathetic, heroes don’t whimper! Heroes are strong! No wonder Thomas hates you. The voice sounded cold. It was almost like it was right behind him. Oh, how funny a delusional prince! 

He took the tape off his chin and place it gently on the wrapping securing it. He got up and gazed into the mirror. (“it’s like looking into a fun house mirror…”) he had a bruise on his cheek and a scratch on the base of his neck. He would have to wear the costume with the higher collar. For the bruise nothing a little makeup cannot fix. He picked up his bag of makeup sitting on the counter and set off to work on his face. 

Once he did a satisfactory job filling in the missing freckles and scars, he washed the bathroom sink. He cleaned up the bandages off the ground and put the first aid kit back under the sink. He looked at himself up and down in the mirror one last time. 

“well, if this is as good as its going to get,” he smiled at the empty looking man in the mirror and tried to smile. At first it looked forced, he tried again this time making sure he crinkled his eyes at the conners. This time it looked more natural. He looked at the time. It was three am. He should get to bed. It was late and he was tired, but he should keep working. 

The end! Unless... jk! Unless...

**Author's Note:**

> my anxiety has been on and off about whether i should post this or not! please comment, it fuels my will to write. if you want i might make a second chapter, but its fine if no one want it. this is the first fic i've actually finished and haven't thrown out. lol. hope you enjoyed. if you didn't please don't tell me that. and uh some kudos would be nice? anyways have an amazing morning/evening/night!


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